


You´re just like Icarus

by HushBekk



Series: Falling out of the God´s embrace [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Author is a Clay | Dream Apologist (Video Blogging RPF), Character Study, Dissociation, Goat Hybrid Toby Smith | Tubbo, Heavy Angst, I Made Myself Cry, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inspired by Music, Inspired by The Fall of Icarus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Inspired by the Legend of Pandora's Box (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Lovers To Enemies, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Third Person, no beta we die like george in manhunts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28869318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HushBekk/pseuds/HushBekk
Summary: In Greek mythology, Icarus (/ˈɪkərəs/; Ancient Greek: Ἴκαρος [ǐːkaros]) is the son of the master craftsman Daedalus. Icarus and his father attempt to escape from Crete by means of wings that his father constructed from feathers and wax. Icarus' father warns him first of complacency and then of hubris, asking that he fly neither too low nor too high. Icarus ignored his father's instructions not to fly too close to the sun; when the wax in his wings melted he tumbled out of the sky and fell into the sea where he drowned, sparking the idiom:"Don't fly too close to the sun".And that´s exactly what Dream did
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs/Sapnap
Series: Falling out of the God´s embrace [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126532
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	You´re just like Icarus

**Author's Note:**

> TW for suicide! Enjoy the fic.

“In Greek mythology, Icarus is the son of the master craftsman Daedalus, the creator of the Labyrinth, he-“

A snore echoed through the small bedroom, the blond man had fallen asleep a long time ago. His long hair was tangled beyond salvation, and his embrace on the shorter man was doting and warm.

The brunette closes the book he had previously been holding, noticing that the man beside of him was already asleep. He brushes it off with a chuckle, and he cannot help but to admire the blonde’s beauty as he sleeps under the moonlight.

Carefully not to wake the other up, George put the book on the nightstand and blowed off the candle beside him. The darkness engulfed him and his lover, making the scene even more ethereal. He could stay up all night counting the other´s freckles and whispering sweet words to his ears. But he knew that Dream would get mad at him in the morning for not resting properly.

He knew the other one said to be a god, maybe he said it jokingly. Sometimes it seemed like Dream really thought that reality to be true, with every risky move he made in a manhunt and every arrow he would take for him would prove that. Regardless of how reckless Dream could be, George adored him with all his might.

No matter how crazy he seemed.

If there’s something George is sure about, is that Dream is like Icarus. In a very ironic way, the man resembled the boy the myths warned about, both in personality and physical traits. Whenever George would bring the myth up to Dream, the other would always dismiss it with a wheezy laugh, saying that those old myth were just folk-stories that the elders came up with to keep people in line.

Oh, if only Dream had learned from the myths…

-x-

If you were to be near the land, the only thing you would´ve heard would be a loud, thunder-like sound. It was the sound of soil breaking apart, leaving the hard rock and bedrock exposed to the sun. The wind retched of gunpowder, burnt leaves and scorched rock.

Vegetation and animals alike perished the moment the Withers had been released, crushed within the rage of the monsters. The ground was paved with dust and dried blood, and it smelled like burned meat, sweat, tears and lost dreams.

Smoke emerged from the crater, immediately dispersing in the sky, painting it with a greyish colour.

It looked _dead_.

And if you listened a little closely, you´d hear the old symphony the land had engraved to its roots. It was over way faster than it started. It was a slow build up that lead to an abrupt descent.

Dream stood over the now blown-up nation, smiling widely through his broken mask. The sound of Withers flying across the sky and the horrified screams of the people of L`Manberg have ceased now; the only sound to be heard is the soft melody of the unfinished symphony.

Burnt memories faded away as the fires died down, and with that the misery of its people only grew more and more.

There’s a certain beauty in setting the world on fire and watching from the centre of the flames.

Finally…the peace and quietness the blond desperately needed _._ Maybe everyone would finally learn the lesson Dream so urgently wanted to teach them. He knew silly myths of a Minotaur and a winged boy would not make the cut, so he took matters into his own hands. If people needed something to hate in order to unite, then Dream was going to give them absolute hell.

He was going to be the villain in his own story, scratch that, he already was.

What a pity, he had to destroy the land he created in order to unite people. But he guessed it was just inevitable; they always picked sides, playing both villain and hero. Wilbur was a prime example of that…look at how he ended.

He ended up dead, killed by his own father. The blonde could still hear the echo of Philza´s cries after that.

Dream carried his bloodied axe with pride as he walked across the wasteland, almost as if showing off his accomplishment. His porcelain mask had been shattered at the beginning of the fight, so his face was on full display, letting the world see the scars that ran all across his face and the immense amount of freckles that caressed his features. The cracked heels of his combat boots made a scary thumping sound with each step he took.

He was a true forced to be reckoned with, a true villain; the best representation of all the evil in the world. No longer the caring, doting man he used to be.

As he looked down to the ground he saw both Tommy and Tubbo lay unconscious, unaware of his presence, both in a fragile embrace. Tubbo was missing a good part of one of his horns, and he looked beaten up to death. The embrace the two friends shared reminded him of something warm, a fuzzy feeling in his chest that would leave him smiling like an idiot for hours on end. But as quick as that memory emerged, it quickly became lost in his mind.

Maybe in another time Dream would have been like a big-brother to them, or maybe it was in this one? The man cannot remember. His memories have been infested by greed, paranoia and power; he can only remember weak, faded fragments of his past. Of the man he used to be way back before the wars had even started; when he alongside his friends build the home they needed.

Way back when it was only him, George and Sapnap.

It’s sad and pathetic, and maybe it’s even cruel. But Dream cannot afford to care…or more precisely, he doesn’t care anymore. He has fulfilled his purpose.

But there`s no denying to his emotions. Deep down he knows that he cares, he cares so much that its makes him push away every chance of happiness he gets. Dream wishes his mental health was better or even at least in an acceptable level, but he knows there´s not going back after this one. Regret won’t do anything but make him feel worse.

So he just doesn’t feel guilt at all.

Forgetfulness was a perfectly crafted copying mechanism that prevented his mind to lose its last bits of sanity.

The blond didn’t believe in his own mortality, having died numerous occasions just fueled his point. But he wasn’t foolish; he knew that if a god can bleed, then a god can _die_. So maybe he´ll be able to find the peace he so much wanted? Maybe he would even get to rest?

Dying didn’t seem as a bad thing for him.

Because there´s a bitter triumph in crashing down when you should be soaring up and high in the skies. And that’s exactly how he felt.

He can see at a distance the survivors trying to help the wounded. He feels rejoiced when he sees Sapnap trying to pull Karl out of the rubble; he’s happy he´s alive and well, after all, Sapnap has known Dream for more than a decade. The lovers quickly make their way to safety, holding eachother as they weep for what they’ve lost.

It reminds Dream of something, or rather, _someone_.

After scanning the ground he can see Technoblade standing in one of the pillars, staring down at the others. They exchange a firm nod, as if to assure themselves that they can rely on eachother from now on. The blond knows better than to disrespect the other man, besides, he wasn’t so bad after all, and he had proven himself to be a good ally.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the man that had robbed his heart. The one that could make him feel at home even during the harshest winter.

Gods, he has truly a beauty. Framed by the sun`s dying rays and the cloud`s shapes.

George stood on the other side of the obsidian pedestal, high above the ground, his brown hair glowing with such an ethereal mist that Dream couldn’t help but to fall more deeply in love with him. He wants to ask the short man if he feels like him now, if he feels the same rush of emotions flowing through his very nerves. But his voice is gone for now, strained after hours screaming in the battlefield.

The other man just looks at him with a look of disappointment and pity. His brown eyes hold an immense sadness the blond cannot perceive. Dream can see the corners of his mouth moving up and down, and slowly, he process what his beloved had just said at him:

“You´re just like Icarus…”

…who...?

_Icarus?_ The boy who fell out of the god`s embrace? It was a funny thought to have, but Dream knew he wasn’t like him. He was more; more powerful, more beautiful and more dangerous than anyone those silly myths could come up with. Dream felt his sore throat ache as he dragged his words out of his mind.

“Don’t say such things George” his voice sounded devoid of any emotion, repressed by paranoia and negativity. Tears made their way to George`s eyes; seeing his lover like this tore his heart apart.

He wasn’t really for this to end; he wasn’t ready to _lose_ Dream.

“How can I even forgive you, Dream?”

George paused for a moment, and after seeing no reactions in the blonde`s eyes he took a deep breath in attempt to control his frustration. He didn’t even notice that he was embracing himself as he stood forward, his tone becoming more and more frantic “There`s no going back! It’s over Dream, its over for you…you lost!”

If Dream was the one that lost, why did it pain George that much?

The brunette was sobbing now, hiccupping and holding himself as steadily as he could. He grabbed Dream`s collar with his left hand as firmly as he could, desperately wanting all of this to be another nightmare. To wake up in the morning besides the blond, in that domesticity that George loved so much.

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair that they had everything they wanted and Dream tore it down.

“Why did you do it? Do you really hate us that much…?” George’s voice broke during his fit of hysteria, but before he could continue Dream interrupted him. His voice low and hushed as if one word would break George apart.

“George”

He placed his cold, injured hands over George`s. Despite the cuts and bruises that covered his tanned, freckled skin, his touch was still tender and caring.

The short man only cried even more.

“I never hated you…I-I never hated anyone on this server”

Dream made a long pause.

“I did what I had to…”

The man slowly stepped away from George, continuing his walk up the tallest obsidian tower. He took a few steps and then turned back at George; his tired green eyes filled with tears.

“And I’ll finish what I started”

George stood there, frozen by the anguish of losing a loved one. His cried could be heard all across the land.

_So everything was going to end like this?_

-x-

He was high up in the sky, where the wind was so strong it almost blew him off the tower. Dream let his hair lose; he took off his amour and emptied his pockets. He carful placed a stack of letters under the weight of his chest plate. Hours before the conflict he made sure he had the letters on him at all times, just in case something went wrong. The man wouldn’t call those a _suicide_ letter…it was more like…a _goodbye_ letter.

A goodbye to everyone he loved.

The blond stood by the edge of the tower, looking down below, giving himself a last view of his land before he departed. The light of dusk made the view more nostalgic to him.

He turned around and let gravity do its thing.

He felt himself fall from the skies.

Falling out of the God´s grace.

Dream let a triumphant laugh he fell from the highest pedestal, it wasn’t tainted by a single pained note, it was like the laugh of a joyful man; he threw his head back and yelled into the winds with his arms spread wide as if asking the Gods for death.

As if daring whatever deity that could listen him to take him to the darkest pits of Hell.

His golden hair flowed freely in the wind, twisting and knotting itself. His wounds didn’t ache anymore and his mind for the first time in years, found beauty in the sun. Death breathed burning kisses against his ears, whispering sweet promises of freedom and quietness; of ideas about redemption, love and hope. And Dream didn’t ignore those hushed voices; he didn’t fuzz or fought against them.

He let himself fall without a care in the world. He knew he was a coward.

But he didn´t care anymore.

And moments before hitting the ground, he wished that maybe…in the next life…he would be reunited with everybody he just left behind and be able to repay them for the pain that he brought upon them.

They deserved nothing less.

He closed his dull, green eyes for the last time and let out a shaky breath.

Everything felt _peaceful._

The setting sun painted everything…in shades of gold and red.

**Author's Note:**

> Heya! I hope you enjoyed my work. I´m planning on doing a small series of this, maybe the aftermath or George´s POV. And Ooof I think my writing has gotten decent after all.
> 
> Anyways, make sure to rest and drink some water, see y´all next week!!!


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